


Lullaby for a Stormy Night

by gestaltrose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-20
Updated: 2011-02-20
Packaged: 2017-10-15 19:08:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gestaltrose/pseuds/gestaltrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam spends the time before Dean’s deal is up, doing what Dean asks him. Written before the end of Season 3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lullaby for a Stormy Night

**Author's Note:**

> The song, Lullaby for a Stormy Night by Vienna Teng, inspired this story. I realize that it is completely impossible even if the Winchesters existed in this universe for Mary to have sung this song to Dean. . .come on. . .fiction, suspend belief for a little bit.

Sadness overwhelmed Sam as he sat with Dean at the crossroads. Sam had lived more in the last year, had been more mindful of every moment, of every breath than he had in all his previous ones. Dean had finally admitted that this scared him before Christmas and it was as if he suddenly got his brother back. Now it was Sam’s turn to be the brother.

Dean had been sick but had insisted Sam bring him to the nearest crossroads. So here they sat on the ground in the middle of an ill-used track and a path; it used to be much more popular, but they were in no danger of being ran over.

Sam had laid a salt ring and then a ring of sage and then finally he had cut his hand, laying a circle of blood around them, Dean drifting in and out of consciousness was in no position to object. Pneumonia was never a good thing and the case Dean had should have had him hospitalized or at least at Bobby’s getting better but his body had picked a bad time to be ill. Tonight, one year had gone by since Dean’s deal with the Crossroads Demon. Tonight Sam hoped to buy a little time with the protection ring to get a chance to deal with whatever wanted Dean’s soul.

Ruby, she’d been helpful, he could admit that now. Too bad some hunters had caught her and sent her back to Hell. The infuriating hints she had left him had him chasing his own tail about half of the time, which he was sure was her point. But the rest of the time. . . whether she meant to or not, she pointed him towards some very helpful ideas.

“Sam,” Dean’s voice pulled him out of his introspection.

“Dean?”

“Sing to me?” Dean asked, shivering in Sam’s arms.

Sam, who had decided long ago that he would do anything for his brother, took a deep breath and settled Dean, a little more firmly against his chest. “What song?” he finally asked.

“You know,” Dean said quietly.

“Yeah, I guess I do.” Sam said. It was the first song he had ever learned. The first song, the one he had learned from Dean.

Dad and Dean talked about the song a couple of times that Sam could recall. Mom - it was one of Dean’s connections to mom and through Dean, one of Sam’s. Growing up with Dean telling him the story of the song, Sam had been jealous. Then, when he was five or six, Dean had explained what the song meant and Sam had snuggled close to his brother as he sang ‘their song’ to him that night.

So Sam sang, his voice starting barely above a whisper.

_Little child, be not afraid  
The rain pounds harsh against the glass  
Like an unwanted stranger  
There is no danger, I am here tonight._

Mom had learned the song in college, at least that was how the story went. Sam, being the research geek that he was, had looked and looked for the song, he never did find it. He figured the story was wrong and that it was something that she had made up, or maybe it was a family song and she had learned it from her mother.

All Sam knew is that he grew up hearing Dean sing him ‘the song’ that became ‘their song’. Even more so as Sam learned the truth about hunting and what really lurked outside in the dark and the song suddenly meant that much more to him.

_Little child, be not afraid  
Though thunder explodes, and lightning flash  
Illuminates your tearstained face  
I am here tonight._

Sam had often wondered if Dean had been scared of thunderstorms when he was little. They scared the crap out of Sam when he was small, and still sent a brief flare of fear down his spine when he heard that rumble rolling across the sky. _Mom_ , Sam thought. It was Dean who raised him, that had mothered him. Dean who he had fought with, fought for, and fought beside. It was Dean that he loved, more than anything in this world. And it was Dean who he was going to fight for, tonight.

Dean coughed and Sam held him until the fit had passed.

_And someday you'll know, that nature is so  
This same rain that draws you near me  
Falls on rivers and land, and forests and sand  
Makes the beautiful world that you see  
In the morning._

Dean had loved the song so much that he had made his mom sing it to his ‘new baby’ every night when she was pregnant. It’s really no wonder that Sam, as a baby, would calm down when Dean would sing to him. Bobby and Father Jim still talked of it.

Sam had been walking, or trying to walk, more like cruising the furniture in Bobby’s house. Dad, as the story goes, was gone on a hunt and Bobby had been out in the yard, fixing something. What it was exactly changed every time the story got told, sometimes it was the Impala, sometimes it was his truck, or even a tractor. What he was fixing wasn’t important just that he was outside.

Dean had to have been five or six as Sam was one or one-and-a-half, that part of the story changed too. Anyway, Sam had tripped or just stumbled and hit his head on the corner of the coffee table that he was walking around. Dean hadn’t panicked, he had grabbed a washcloth, always handy when Sam was nearby, and pressed it to Sam’s forehead to stop the bleeding.

Then he started singing. Softly, so Sam would quiet down and listen.

Bobby had walked into a silent house, too silent for his peace of mind, so he had gone looking for Dean. Finding them both on the floor, Sammy cuddled into his brother’s side, Bobby stopped and listened to Dean’s sweet voice.

_Little child, be not afraid  
The storm clouds mask your beloved moon  
And its candlelight beams, still keep pleasant dreams  
I am here tonight._

Sam remembered Dean singing it to him a lot. He couldn’t recall the first time Dean had snuggled next to him and sang it after a bad dream, but he did remember many, many other times.

Once they had been out with dad while he was hunting something, Sam now knew. At the time, Sam was only seven years old and Dean was floating in that pre pubescent fog that exists between eleven and thirteen; he hadn’t wanted anything to do with his little brother, much less be stuck in a car with him.

But dad couldn’t find anyone to watch Sam and Dean who had just started to hunt with dad was stuck babysitting his little brother; he was resentful to say the least. It began to get dark and then a storm rolled in, lighting flashing, thunder rolling and it had sent Sam diving for the safety of Dean.

Dean, who had probably rolled his eyes, still wrapped his arms around Sam and sang.

_Little child, be not afraid  
The wind makes creatures of our trees  
And the branches to hands, they're not real, understand  
And I am here tonight_

 _And someday you'll know, that nature is so  
This same rain that draws you near me  
Falls on rivers and land, and forest and sand  
Makes the beautiful world that you see  
In the morning._

Sam closed his eyes and remembered the feeling of safety and love he had felt in Dean’s arms, that he hoped Dean felt now in his. The wind stirred restlessly the closer it drew to midnight, and Sam waited.

Either the Crossroads Demon or hell hounds would show up to drag Dean down to hell and Sam was waiting.

“A little more, Sam,” Dean said. _Before I leave you_ was hanging unsaid between them.

Dean shivered in the growing wind and Sam pulled him closer, giving him warmth and strength.

_For you know, once even I was a little child  
And I was afraid, but a gentle someone always came  
To dry all my tears, trade sweet sleep the fears  
And to give a kiss goodnight._

“Mommy,” Dean said in a broken whisper.

 _Dean_ , Sam thought. His head snapped up. He thought he had heard growling. The dogs would be easier to deal with, but Sam knew the result would be the same, at least that’s what he hoped.

Funny thing about life, it rarely went well. But it was all of those moments that made it perfect. Sam remembered so many ‘perfect’ moments. The sun setting on the ocean and he and Jess sitting on the beach, watching it go down. She said if he listened he could hear it hiss, that’s what her mom had told her and then they kissed, the light of the sun darkening her blonde hair to red.

Another moment was when a rainstorm had kept him - and therefore Dean - up half the night, song or no song. Getting up and walking outside the cabin that they were in, Sam had taken a deep breath. The birds were chirping, the grass was wet, the sunshine was turning every drop he saw into a prism. But it was the smell he remembered most, the clean, wet smell that always comforted him forever after.

Returning later that day, Dad had come in stinking to high heaven. The will-o-wisp that he had been hunting had led on a merry chase landing him in a swamp. Cursing a blue streak, Dad washed most of the muck off outside. Dean had laughed and it had made Dad mad. Dragging Dean off with him, Sam had barely had a chance to say goodbye and then he was left alone.

That night, he laid salt lines, closed the door and shutters on the windows tight. He sat on the bed in a little circle of light that the tableside lamp provided, rocking back and forth. Sam had been so scared, every noise making him jump, every scrape of branches against the shutters sending a tremor down his spine. He finally lay down and tried to sleep.

Tossing and turning for at least an hour, he suddenly remembered what Dean had told him as he left. He should sing ‘their song’ and remember that wherever Dean was, he was singing it, too.

_Well, now I am grown, and these days have shown  
Rain's a part of how life goes  
But it's dark and it's late, so I'll hold you and wait  
'til your frightened eyes do close_

 _And I hope that you'll know, that nature is so  
This same rain that draws you near me  
Falls on rivers and land, and forests and sand  
Makes the beautiful world that you see  
In the morning._

Sam could see eyes glowing in the darkness, circling their position. Even watching as closely as he could he, missed the demon showing up.

“Sammy,” she spoke quietly, “and Dean.”

He stopped his rising excitement; he had been pretty sure that there was more than one Crossroads Demon, but he hadn’t been positive.

Sam began to chant in Latin and watched as the demon’s eyes widened. The winds grew stronger and stronger, beginning to break his circles. The hell hound slunk into view, moving closer to stay even with the demon. They easily passed the first circle of sage, then as they both moved past the salt one, Sam changed his chant. Sam and the demon watched as the grains of salt poured back together, forming a barrier.

“Sammy.” The demon looked at him sadly, like he had let her down. What he did next had her looking at him with fear.

He said something to the hell hound and it lay down and rolled over, presenting its belly. Sam hugged Dean closer as he stirred.

“Contract,” Sam demanded.

She shrugged.

“Fine,” Sam snapped at her and said something to the hell hound. It looked at him expectantly. He gave it an order and it left, disappearing inside of the circles and reappearing outside of them. It bayed once and took off.

“What have you done?” the demon asked, fear in her voice.

“Sent it to fetch your master. . . boss. . . whatever.” Sam shrugged; he really didn’t give a damn.

“But. . .but. . .” she stumbled over her words as the air changed and there was a handsome man standing just outside the salt ring.

“Sam.” The stranger’s eyes were as warm as his voice. Then he turned to the demon. “You,” his voice was colder than an arctic wind. Apparently the demon felt it too and she shrunk in on herself.

“You can go,” the stranger told her and without a glance at Sam the demon threw its head back and screamed darkness to the sky. When the demon had left its host body, the terrified girl looked at Sam and Dean sitting on the ground, turned and ran.

“Sam.” The warmth was back in the stranger’s voice.

Sam nodded.

“So you want to make a deal?”

Shaking his head, Sam looked down at Dean, scared for a moment. Then his brother pushed against him and raised his head. Sam squeezed him gently around his chest, reassuring him.

“You want to make a deal,” Sam said, his voice strong and sure. “Tell me what I want to hear.”

There was a calculating look in the stranger’s eye. “Very well. Sam I want you to lead.”

Sam held up a hand and stopped him. “You have two more chances, then this is done. It will be done.” Sam looked straight at the man, his threat clear in his eyes.

“Dean can stay with you,” the man said. Sam raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop him. “Live his normal lifespan, whatever that is. His soul is his own to tarnish as he pleases.”

Sam smiled. “And in return,” Sam said slowly, making sure that the creature across from him was catching every word, “I will not take over Hell, at this time.”

The man gave him a calculating look. “And if you die, again, at some point?”

“I guess I won’t have much choice then. You’ll be out of a job.”

Sam could tell that the man was thinking. Finally, after Sam was positive he was going to have to resort to plan B, the man nodded.

“Binding?”

“Binding.”

Sam nodded once and the man disappeared. He certainly didn’t want to be the Crossroads Demon when that man caught up with her.

Having pretty much made sure that he was protected from demonic interference, Sam maneuvered Dean to the car. They needed to get to the hospital, now that they no longer had to fear hell hounds coming after Dean.

Sliding into the Impala, Sam held Dean against his side as he drove away from the crossroads for the last time, Dean’s breathing a comforting noise next to him, that Sam hadn’t been sure he would still be listening to. Because Sam’s other plan, if negotiations had failed, was to kill Dean and then himself, making sure that he would be there to look after his brother, just like Dean had always looked out for him.

_Everything's fine in the morning  
The rain will be gone in the morning  
But I'll still be here in the morning._


End file.
